Memo to headbutting divas - take it down a notch, mkay?

Summer is here, and the darling young ladies of Reading are donning their scantiest duds (much to the delight of the young lads, and the old ones too, for that matter), topping off with a cool pair of shades and taking to the streets of Reading. Some of them bring along a nice cold lager. And intent to bash. At 3:20 in the afternoon. On a Tuesday. (Disclaimer: This in no way indicates that all women in Reading stalk the afternoon streets carrying a brew and violent tendencies -- those are just the ones who stick out, like the girl at your prom who mistakenly thought a yellow-feathered gown looked more glamorous than Big-Birdy.)

It seems a 19-year-old girl said hello with a hug to a man accompanied by three other women (at least two of whom were already getting a buzz or better with drinks in hand). And the women were all "Oi, piss off!" (or something to that effect, I'm sure). And the 19-year-old was all "F YOU!" (again, I don't have the official transcript) and gave 'em the finger.

So, taking the next logical action, one of the women punched Huggy-Huggerson in the face, while the other gave her an old school headbutt. Ah, summertime!

Here comes the rain again...

Yes, yes, I've heard if from a few people, "You knew you'd have to get wet at Water Fest, yuck yuck!" C'mon y'all, this is ain't Waterworld, it ain't the Log Ride at Six Flags. It's looking at things along the water, whilst staying out of it yourself. Cold (as I usually am in England) and wet just isn't the most fun I can have with my clothes on. And I was feeling a little puny. So I'm a wimp, deal with it, you big bad toughie-wuffies, you.

Anyhoo, here are some pics of a drenched Reading Water Fest (which apparently dried up and became party central as soon as I hit the road).








That last pic was just an attempt to capture the rain, though I inadvertently showed how much rubbish gets in the canal. I took a photo last week of a scenic little spot with a Dell monitor floating along with the ducks (I'll post that at some point). WTF? There's surely an interesting story behind that ...

A dismal Water Fest

Last Saturday was the annual Water Fest, something I look forward to every year. Unfortunately, it started pouring rain while we were out. We went home, and of course it soon looked to have cleared up, so I started to go back out after a couple of hours. Looked out the window just before I left, and BAM! it had started raining again. I gave up for good and all, only to see it stayed clear the rest of the day. Major disappointment, really.

I'll upload some wet, rainy pics of my Water Fest experience later. They pretty much depict what the "summer" has been like so far -- wet, chilly, and icky. Here's an official video from the event, it looks like lots of fun was to be had if you managed to be there when the heavens weren't crashing down bucket loads of rain.

Boobs aren't impolite?

I've noticed a couple of ladies' clothing stores casually use the word "boobs" here, which to my ears sounds like a slightly impolite slang term but must not be seen as such. U.S. stores would say "bust" or "chest" instead, I think. (It's like when people say they need "the toilet" here when they want a restroom. That's too graphic for me; I don't need to know what you're doing there -- maybe you're washing your hands or combing your hair -- let's keep a little mystery alive, shall we?)

Below is a pic of Pepperberry, and you'll note at the bottom of the window is the motto: "clothes designed with your boobs in mind." A similar theme can be found at its parent store, lingerie retailer Bravissimo, which liberally sprinkles the word "boobs" around its site and used to have a slogan about being for "big-boobed women."


It's just one of those little differences in perception, kind of like how some Americans use British terms such as "bloody" when they don't want to curse, not realizing that *is* a curseword. It just depends which side of the pond you're on when you say it, lol.

Party Like it's a Royal Wedding

Tomorrow is the big day! I'm actually looking forward to it. It's one of those special events, something you'll look back and say "I remember when...".

I paid little attention to the wedding of Charles and Diana. Don't know why; I was a kid and it either didn't grab my attention or my parents didn't care to watch it, and in the days of one TV and no VCR, you watched what the parents wanted and that's that.

As a final edition of my Tat Countdown to the Big Day, here's the entry from Poundland below. Note how much is left -- I don't think many street parties are planned for reading.

Royal Wedding Wannabes

Wedding fever is in the air, and on the shelves. Have nothing remotely related to the royal wedding to flog? Fake it, baby.

That's what Claire's did. Note the sign reading: "KEEP CALM AND PARTY ON" followed by "William & Catherine 29th April 2011." Below that is the weak-ass Claire's version of royal wedding party gear. (No offense to Claire's -- it's a fun, girly shop -- but wedding tat HQ it ain't).

The most nearly sorta kinda wedding-related merch they have is a tiara ( you can just barely see it in the second row on the right, below the red headbands). There's also a sash (probably intended for "Hen Dos") that reads: "Bride to be." That's pictured below.

Everything else just seems to be whatever Claire's had in Union Jack colors. Maybe some people will dress up in fake pearls and the poor-woman's fascinator (a headband with some red ribbon on it) to enjoy the wedding.

A wedding-watching party actually might be fun; I read on some interview that a woman was going to invite friends over for tea and scones and watch the wedding. Kind of like the "Friends" finale for the older generations.

Wrath of the Royal Wedding Tat!

The anti-memorabilia royal wedding memorabilia has landed! These Royal Wedding Sick Bags were £3 at But Is It Art? in Reading's city centre.

The punny "Throne Up" printed across the top is enough to make me need one of these bags, but at least it's not another cheap mug or disposable tablecloth.